


The Rooster

by the_last_dillards



Series: Kinktober 2020 [18]
Category: Star Trek: Deep Space Nine
Genre: Butt Plugs, Consensual Infidelity, Cuckolding, Jealousy, Kinktober, M/M, Marking, Possessive Behavior
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-18
Updated: 2020-10-18
Packaged: 2021-03-08 18:48:15
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,715
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27091519
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/the_last_dillards/pseuds/the_last_dillards
Summary: That lingering trace of Miles O'Brien's scent on Julian's flesh; it drove Garak wild.Kinktober Day 18: Cuckolding
Relationships: Background Julian Bashir/Miles O'Brien, Julian Bashir/Elim Garak
Series: Kinktober 2020 [18]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1945888
Comments: 18
Kudos: 67





	The Rooster

**Author's Note:**

> Umm so this one definitely got away from me wordcount wise 😬 
> 
> To make it very clear, everything in this is consensual. They've all done this before and everyone (including the O'Briens) knows what's up.

Garak waited in Quark’s bar, sitting alone at a table that provided a good view of the holosuites. A burning rage coiled within him. 

Julian and Chief O’Brien were in Holosuite Four. They had been for almost two hours. He could just imagine the sorts of things they were getting up to in there. 

Arms around each other’s shoulders. Patting each other on the back and ruffling hair. Touching.

The playful gleam Julian sometimes got in his eyes, directed at O’Brien. 

A soft smile.

A fuck in a field, releasing the tension of a battle won or lost. 

Julian bound, dressed in his secret agent garb with O’Brien standing over him, cock out and sliding between Julian’s only too willing lips.

Betraying Garak.

It wasn’t fair to Julian to feel this way, he knew. They had agreed to this.

The polyamorous nature of the O’Brien’s relationship was no secret to the station. Mrs O’Brien and Major Kira could often be seen out and about together, and in the same way, Julian and the Chief were involved.

It had begun back when Garak had no real claim on Julian. When he’d been too cautious to allow anything more than the occasional discreet encounter.

The O‘Briens had invited Julian into their bed for an experimental night, and it had seemed to him then that it would just be yet another thing he would put up with as a result of his cowardice.

He hadn’t expected to _enjoy_ it.

Julian had taken a number of partners during their time together, but never had they affected Garak quite the way it did when he’d crawled into the doctor’s bed the next night. Others were nuisances at best, with scents quickly covered over again with his own.

But Miles O’Brien’s scent; it drove him wild.

Having sex with Julian, _his_ Julian, while was he covered in not just another man’s stench but the one person on the station that Garak considered something akin to both a rival and a threat, it was positively delicious. It was like being on the wire again, pure euphoria and adrenaline, the feeling of power in retaking his mate as his own.

It hadn’t taken Julian long to notice the frenzy that being with O’Brien sent him into. He approached Garak about it, concerned that perhaps he wasn’t happy with the arrangement. But Garak had set him straight, and even after they finally moved into a deeper and more meaningful relationship, Julian still had the occasional dalliance with his permission.

It was difficult in some ways to allow Julian these affairs. A part of him feared that it would be the end of them, that Julian would find him lacking in comparison and leave him for the other man. But an even bigger part was sure that so long as that man was Miles O’Brien, it would never happen. 

Not because Julian didn’t care for, even love the Chief deeply, but because Miles was devoted through-and-through to his wife and family. If Mrs O’Brien began taking an interest in Julian as well, that’s when Garak would worry.

The holosuite doors finally opened, and Garak stood from his table. 

Julian and O’Brien made their way out in rumpled tuxedos, waltzing their way down the stairs as they smiled and laughed with each other. Garak met them at the bottom.

O’Brien seemed to cool immediately. 

“Chief,” Garak acknowledged, inclining his head.

“Garak,” O’Brien nodded back before clapping a hand on Julian’s arm and taking off.

Garak tried not to bristle at seeing them make contact. Instead, he gave Julian a perfectly amicable smile and offered his arm. The doctor took it and allowed him to lead them out, still beaming.

Julian filled the silence as they made their way back, while Garak nodded and made only short comments to encourage him to continue. What the conversation was even about, he wasn’t quite sure. 

There were far more distracting things to keep him occupied.

Julian was absolutely smothered in O’Brien’s stench, topped with the distinctive scent of sex. Garak’s heart hammered at it, an urge to push Julian against a wall here and now and reclaim him for all to see burning at the edges of his mind.

But he clamped down on it. That’s not how the game was played.

When they arrived at their quarters, Garak played the good, ignorant spouse and took to replicating them both a meal while Julian shrugged out of his jacket and undid his tie, sitting at the table and pulling out a padd. He didn’t even glance up as Garak set a plate and steaming mug in front of him and sat down across from him with his own.

At least the wafting scents managed to obscure Julian’s tainted aura.

“So, dear,” Garak said pointedly. “How was work today?”

“Hm?” Julian lowered the padd and only now seemed to notice his meal. He took a scoop of rice and shoved it into his mouth before responding, chewing through the words. “Oh, the usual. Appointments, paperwork, a few minor injuries. Yours?”

“You should know by now, dear doctor, that the life of a tailor is a thrilling one. I couldn’t possibly recount the day’s events without running into the next one. But I understand you might’ve had your own excitement during your weekly holosuite session.”

Julian failed to fully suppress a smirk at that. “Oh, yes. Would you like to hear about it, Elim?”

Garak smiled blandly and swirled his tea. “I’m all ears.”

Setting his fork down with a click and folding his hands, Julian leaned in over his meal to recount dramatically. “Well, to recap the last session, I was after the despicable Baron Von Borvan. He had the most dastardly plan to seed the sky with dust and start the next ice age, and to do it, he had kidnapped top climatologist Sunny Redbottom. Julian Bashir, secret agent, was on the case.”

Garak raised an eye ridge but held his tongue, nodding along instead. There were many aspects of that information which alone would normally be enough for him to spark a flirtatious debate but that wasn’t the point of this exercise.

“They planned to use a dirigible—that is a type of old Terran airship—to carry it out. And so my mission was to sneak onboard and bring it down. Only, I found Borvan was waiting for me. Someone had tipped him off, and I was captured by his henchpeople just after it took off. Lo and behold, Falcon was among them.”

Julian paused and took a careful sip from his mug before setting it down. He looked back up at Garak with mirth in his eyes.

“You do remember Falcon, don’t you, Elim? That one is Miles’ character. Notorious gun for hire and longtime nemesis of Agent Bashir. Though in our version, he’s also his illicit occasional lover. Ever since that fateful mission in the Urals where we were tasked with working together and the nights got so, so cold. You understand how it goes.”

Garak gave him a tight smile and nodded neatly, trying not to be swept away in his vision of a snowy cliff side with Julian and O‘Brien huddled close together in a cave or small tent, panting breaths and roaming hands as they pressed together under heavy blankets, becoming hot together in all the wrong ways. 

The thought of it fed the jealous fire in him and Garak tried to push the image away. They hadn’t even gotten to the main event. He couldn’t afford to lose control yet.

Julian continued, “Well, obviously I was a threat to their plans, and so Borvan told them to dispose of me. They had me handcuffed to a chair and lowered the dirigible’s loading ramp mid flight with the intent to let me slowly slide to my doom, falling six kilometers to the Earth.” 

A ridiculous way to go. Anyone with half a brain and an intent to succeed would have shot Agent Bashir from the start, preferably after a brief interrogation. 

Still, Garak tried to picture it. Wind whipping through the cargo bay as a ramp lowered, a wide expanse of empty air below. Julian, looking death in the eye and remaining his secret agent character’s confident stalwart self even as his toes touched the very top of the incline.

And then there would be O’Brien in his Falcon getup, signature eye patch on, waiting off to the side. Gleeful at seeing his adversary’s end.

“But then an alarm went off. I knew what it was. Sunny, the dear, felt for me you see, and she didn’t really want to start the next ice age. It was meant as a distraction so that she could rescue me. Only, while the other henchpeople went off to investigate, Falcon stayed behind. He’d been bested by me too many times not to make sure that I met my end. I would have to escape another way.” 

These so-called Bond girls were another source of jealousy. The doctor might not indulge that way in the real world anymore but Garak was very well aware that he still looked at and admired women and played with his fantasy creations. 

Julian’s beautiful holographic women themselves didn’t trouble Garak much, the lack of any lingering scents making any such encounters essentially void to his reptilian mind, but it was the idea that Julian might meet someone like that in real life that nagged at him. He knew that he could never hold up to a pretty young lady who was agreeable and openly admired the doctor.

Garak could feel his ridges swelling at the thought. He would need to mark Julian over so thoroughly that his mated status was unmistakable, and no such woman would dare approach him. Julian would positively reek of him, and everyone would know who he belonged to.

“You’re sure I’m not boring you, Elim?” 

Julian was looking at him with a knowing look on his face, a teasing curve hidden in his smile.

Garak tilted his head and blinked. “Why not at all, my dear!”

He received a raised eyebrow at that. Julian picked up his fork and scraped it along the edges of his plate as he coyly glanced up. “It’s perfectly alright if you’d rather just have dinner. Besides, I’m not really sure I should be telling my partner this next part...”

He let that tantalizing hint drop, and Garak burned as it came into contact. Yes, he could imagine what came next.

Garak smiled obligingly. “Go on. I’m enraptured by the exploits of Agent Bashir.”

Julian set his fork down with a loud clack, settling back into his chair and looking as if he had not a care in the world as he stared Garak down.

“Well, I did what I had to. I begged Falcon to release me, tried to reason with him, and when he laughed at that, I asked him to fuck me one last time instead, for old times sake. He knew what I was trying to do, of course. It was obvious. But you understand, Falcon is canonically a sadist. And well, Miles seems to get off a bit on torturing me as well.”

It took a great deal of effort and focus for Garak to keep his breathing steady.

His mind’s eye flashed through the scene. Julian, desperate and dark eyed, biting his lips until they plumped and letting his legs splay wide for good measure, begging Miles O’Brien to have him then and there or surely, he would die. 

O’Brien, laughing at him and brushing it off before eyeing the drop below and Julian’s peril, noticing the swelling bulge in his trousers, and tasting the sweet opportunity to tease and taunt and torment one last time. To play with Julian. Torture him.

Garak knew a fair good bit about torture. Knew how to push and pull and manipulate to an end. 

What did O’Brien know of those things? Did he play at the idea of being what Garak once was? Was that how the man lured Julian in? Everyone knew how enamored Julian had been with _the Spy_ in those early days after all.

No, he was being ridiculous. 

O’Brien may be one of the few people on the station that Garak believed could truly pose a threat and the only that he, somewhat embarrassingly, considered to be his own personal nemesis, but he was still Miles O’Brien. Plain and simple in truth, not in disguise.

Julian let him have his moment before continuing, “There was that one time—I’m sure you remember me telling you—when I was cuffed to a metal pipe in a boiler room. Falcon was keeping an eye on me as we waited for the villain of the day to arrive. I _was_ meant to be discreetly seducing the Bond girl, one of Falcon’s associates, but Miles thought it would be fun to play a bit, knowing me and her had had an _encounter_ before.”

There was a pause as Julian picked up his mug, wrapping his long fingers around it and bringing it up to his lips for a sip. He kept it in his hands as he continued nonchalantly, “So he pushed me to my knees and made me suck him off right then and there. Lucky for me, she rather liked the sight. So mission accomplished.”

Julian shrugged as if the matter were as ordinary as day, mouth curling at the edges over his drink.

Garak remembered hearing about that particular session of theirs well.

Julian had looked a magnificent mess afterwards—something about climbing through a coal mine—and his breath had smelled inextricably of O‘Brien. Garak had had to rectify that through a great many penetrating kisses that licked the other man’s flavor out to replace it with his own before pushing Julian down on the couch and straddling his face.

He stared at Julian’s lips now, frozen as they were in that smug little grin. Did they seem more swollen than usual?

No, they looked perfectly ordinary. Garak was letting his imagination get away from him.

This was just Julian stalling. Keeping Garak on edge by feeding him only the tiniest of morsels from other misadventures rather than confirm what they both already knew had happened earlier that night. 

The anticipation roiled within him as he waited for the reveal.

Julian set the mug down again and brushed a hand through his hair as if fixing it, only to push it further out of place. 

“But I suppose I’m getting off topic,” he sighed wistfully. “In the end, I convinced him. Though Falcon was rightfully suspicious. So he left his weapons and keys off in a corner where I couldn’t get ahold of them before turning my chair around and recuffing me to it backwards.” 

Julian met his stare with an impenetrable gaze. “The rest went about as you’d expect. Miles, as Falcon, had me on that same chair I was to die in. Fucked me good and hard right on the edge, and by god, was it amazing.” 

He tilted his head back to watch the ceiling, exposing his long throat, bruised and blemished. Most of the marks there were Garak’s own, he recognized them. But were they all? He couldn’t be sure of it without a scent.

Julian continued on, brows furrowing, and for all appearances not noticing Garak’s focus as he tracked his eyes along the weld lines in the ceiling.

“Kept us both distracted enough that we didn’t even notice Sunny coming in and taking Falcon’s things. She didn’t even try to interrupt. Just went to destroy the launch mechanism on her own and saved the day. Ah well, I suppose. Still gave us enough time to both have an orgasm.”

He looked back down, shrugging, and picked up his fork to take a stab at a vegetable before shoving it in his mouth and talking around it, adding, “It's very lucky, you see, that Agent Bashir always keeps himself well prepped for any scenario. If you catch my drift.”

Yes, Garak remembered very well when Julian had come out of the fresher earlier that night with a spring in his step, going to replicate a bottle of lube and giving him a quick kiss before heading out to his game. He’d known that Julian had been doing more than washing during his shower and had distracted himself in the meantime by trying to catch up on commissions and reading.

Still, the implications of Julian planning for this, seeking out O’Brien’s company over his own stoked the fire within him. Garak held back a low growl.

Julian swallowed the bite, adam's apple bobbing. He rested his fork on the corner of a tine, twirling it around like a ballerina and biting his bottom lip as if in thought.

“You know, Elim, there’s something to be said for the human cock. I never thought I’d say that. I’m a man for the exotic side of things as you well know, but being with Miles has made me reconsider that aspect.” 

He looked up at Garak through hooded eyes and let his lip slide free.

“I mean, the way it's blunted at the head and gives it to you all at once. Not like yours. Well, I can barely feel that going in until you're nearly up to the base. Miles’ may be drier but at least it provides some variety. We can put as much or as little slick as we want, play it rough sometimes.”

The audacity! As if Julian hadn’t been worshiping his prUt this very morning. As if Miles O’Brien’s cock could ever pleasure him the way Garak’s could. 

Garak could feel his ridges flushed dark and swollen like the black frilled regnar displaying for a mate or challenging a rival. How he’d like to drag Julian into the bedroom right now and throw him to the bed. Claim him, fuck him, until everyone would know on sight just who Julian Bashir belonged to. 

Julian set his fork down and reached up as if itching at his clavicle, discreetly running his fingers along it and maintaining eye contact.

“And we do play it rough. Miles isn’t afraid to do it hard with me. He knows I’m not fragile. He gives it to me however he wants, and I take it gladly.”

And that was enough. Garak knew a challenge when he saw one, and he wasn’t about to allow himself to be insinuated as weak. There was only so much he could be expected to take.

Garak stood abruptly, hissing nearly uncontrollably as he stalked around to the other side of the table. 

Julian watched him passively, daring him. He gasped when Garak yanked him up by the shirt collar, a hand sweeping the dishes off the table and onto the floor before bending him over it.

Garak pressed himself to him. He ripped open Julian's shirt, buttons flying, and pulled the fabric down his arms, tossing it off to the side. It was one he himself had carefully tailored, but was now sullied by O’Brien. Even if it was washed and the scent faded, the garment would forever be tainted. Garak couldn’t let it live. 

There on Julian’s naked torso, he found his flesh freshly bruised. His own faded imprints remained but over one was a new mark, red and swollen. 

Garak growled and latched on, biting till he tasted blood and erasing O‘Brien’s mark. 

He released him and watched the skin inflame further as he fumbled Julian’s trousers down. 

There, he saw it.

They’d talked about the idea on occasion before but never before had Julian dared to go through with it, to taunt him that way.

Garak pulled the plug out. Julian’s hole was loose and swollen in its absence, O'Brien’s semen leaking out. 

He threw it to the side and opened his own trousers, pressing himself close and latching onto the back of Julian's neck as he everted right into him. They both groaned at the sensation, and Garak rumbled as he felt warm wetness around him, knowing none of it came from him.

He set a punishing pace, thrusting into him hard and fast and aiming for his prostate. He would make Julian forget anyone but him.

No more secret trysts with O’Brien. No more longing gazes at young women. There was Garak and Garak alone. 

He pushed a hand down to grab roughly at Julian’s cock, jerking him furiously, and Julian came, howling.

Garak didn’t stop. He pumped into him with all the fury he could muster, lord over Julian’s pleasure and reclaiming his mate.

Finally, he reached his own end, spilling himself inside him. Garak rested for a moment and then reached over for the plug and pulled out, swiftly pushing it in in his place. Julian looked over his shoulder and made a face at him. Garak smiled triumphantly.

With a huff, Julian turned himself over so that he was resting on his elbows and quirked an eyebrow. “I hope you don’t expect me to be the one cleaning up that mess you just made throwing our dinner on the floor. You could have at least carried me to the couch.”

“And here I thought you enjoyed a little variety.”

“Not when you’re staining the carpet.”

“You should be flattered, my dear, by the evidence of just how much I want you.”

“Maybe I’ll be flattered once that carpet is spotless,” he flashed Garak a reproachful look. “You’ve gotten it out of your system then?”

“For now.” Garak didn’t think he would ever have Julian completely out of his system.

“You know, Miles said that Keiko was talking about maybe having the both of us over sometime. For, you know...”

Garak nodded once. “I’ll consider it.”

“Right.” Julian stood up straight and Garak moved back to give him room as he stretched. “Well, I need a good wash. You’ll be a dear and clean that up?”

“Of course.”

He was treated to a quick kiss before Julian was off on his way to the fresher, gait somewhat awkward from still being filled more ways than one.

Garak watched appreciatively before he bent to begin picking food off the floor.

**Author's Note:**

> Julian makes at least two comments about carpeting in the show. One can only assume he’s very particular. (Him and Garak have a difference of opinion on the worthiness of the carpet in their quarters. Garak wants it torn out and replaced with something less garish.)
> 
> Kudo to protect your own carpeting from stains 🧹  
> Comment to mysteriously win a sweepstakes for completely new carpeting (or whatever sort of flooring you want) ✨✨

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [The Rooster [PODFIC]](https://archiveofourown.org/works/27592217) by [yohlenyaoilover](https://archiveofourown.org/users/yohlenyaoilover/pseuds/yohlenyaoilover)




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